


Flesh and Blood

by sophiria



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Mob, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Porn, Artist Steve Rogers, Dark Steve Rogers, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mobster Steve Rogers, Porn With Plot, Possessive Steve Rogers, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pregnancy, Pregnant Reader, Pregnant Sex, Protective Steve Rogers, Reader-Insert, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve is still a supersoldier, Top Steve Rogers, devoted Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:29:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26071927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiria/pseuds/sophiria
Summary: Steve knew all about your desire to be by yourself. But as long as he lived, he was never going to allow you to be on your own.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 87
Kudos: 231





	1. Flesh and Blood I

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: general dubcon, noncon elements, emotional hurt, angst, funeral and talks of death, pregnancy, pregnant sex, unprotected sex

Steve couldn't take his eyes off of your grieving figure draped in an all-black outfit. You were beautiful and pregnant, glowing despite the grief. His younger brother Joseph Rogers Jr. couldn't have gotten himself killed at a worse time.

Steve couldn't help but be bitter, either. He didn't have a devoted wife who loved him and waited for him at home as you used to do for his now-dead brother. Being the older of the two condemned him to be shipped off to War and experimented on, only to come home to an empty house and an empty bed.

During the War, he had tried to make it work with Peggy Carter, but when it all ended, she came back to London for a full-time job, and he could not merely follow her there.

He still remembers when he had come back to New York, how you ogled his newfound super-soldier body, your lips parting as your surprised gaze flickered from his brother to him, then to him back to his brother. His only satisfaction was that his enhanced body frightened and attracted people at the same time.

As the funeral service was coming to an end, he observed how graceful and composed you were to people who expressed their condolences.

He suddenly missed the feisty attitude he knew you had in private. You liked to curse around him as you knew he didn't appreciate women swearing, which was true, up to a point. He loved your potty mouth, not that he would tell you that anytime soon. 

" _Steve_."

Steve sighed. "What is it, Buck?" He asked his old friend, still not taking his eyes off of your sad and enticing tear-stained face.

He felt Bucky grasping his arm, trying to get his full attention. "Your sister-in-law is planning to leave us." His words prompted Steve to turn around towards Bucky completely. 

Steve's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by that?" He grunted.

Bucky inhaled sharply. "She's planning to run away because she's scared for the safety of the baby. I heard her talking about this with Maria Hill, who of course, agrees with her."

Steve's jaw clenched. "Of course," he replied sharply. "And what is she planning to do, exactly? The single mom with a target on her back? She should know that all of _us_ are in danger, not just the people related by blood."

Bucky nodded at his words. "What are you planning to do with her?"

Steve glanced sideways, noticing the way you were clutching your belly. 

There was no way he was going to let you get away from this family, from _him_ , from this life.

"I'm going to protect her," he grumbled. "Whether she wants it or not."

* * *

After the burial of your husband, you asked your friend Maria Hill if she could accompany you back to your house. 

Tiredness weighted down your frame; grief and hormones were making you bilious. You were five months pregnant, but your heart already ached for the fatherless life your little one was going to have. 

_And who on Earth would want the widow of a mobster? Probably a fellow mobster, which is what you wanted to avoid._

You bid goodbye to Maria as soon as you entered the threshold of your door. She wanted to stay with you, but you weren't in the mood to talk, and you knew she deserved rest after the weeks she had spent consoling and protecting you.

You took a shower, wanting to scrub the day off of you. 

You changed into a comfortable grey maternity nightgown with a v-neck and long sleeves and ate some proteins before heading straight back to bed.

But as you approached your bedroom, your heart rate sped up, an invisible foreboding force lifting the hairs on the back of your neck.

_You weren't alone._

You stopped dead in your tracks, too scared to move a muscle. You instantly wrapped your arms around your belly.

You gulped. "Whoever you are," you began. "I'm pregnant. Don't hurt my child, please." Silence. Then, a voice you'd recognize anywhere. "I would never do that."

_What the fuck?_

You reluctantly moved from the hallway and put a hand on your doorknob, slowly opening it.

Steve was sitting at the edge of your bed, his three-piece funeral suit still hugging his frame. His deep, piercing gaze cruised your figure, his eyes wandering from your belly to your face. "You shouldn't be all alone in this house," he told you stiffly. "You shouldn't be alone at all."

You shot him a glare. "Sure, come on in Steve," you scoffed, stopping dead in your tracks in front of the bedroom's door. "What do you want?"

He pressed his lips together. "I should ask you that, shouldn't I?" He huffed, folding his arms over his chest. "Bucky told me about what you are planning to do."

You swallowed. "You can't fault me for wanting to get away from this life," you told him angrily, clenching your fists. "They murdered my husband, _your_ brother, and now _my_ baby is going to grow up without a father."

His brows knitted in a frown. "Your kid _will_ grow up with a father figure in his life."

Your eyes flashed with disbelief. "What?"

He puffed out his chest and put his hands on his thighs, looking more imposing than ever. "I'm a Rogers, Joseph was my brother," he reminded you as if you didn't know. "I have to take care of his widow."

You shook your head. "I don't want your help or your money, Steve," you snapped. "Joseph left me enough to start over somewhere else." 

He raised his eyebrows. "No, you won't," he rumbled. "You _will_ stay right here, in this family, with me."

You paused. Your hands went up, palms forward. "You can't be serious," you whispered in disbelief. "You're—"

He tilted his head. "I'm what?" He asked gravely. "I'm already your kid's uncle, and she or he will have _my_ blood."

You blinked owlishly. "What are you getting at?" You breathed.

He stared fixedly at you. "I want you. _All_ of you. And I want to raise your child."

You covered your face with your hands. "God, Steve, this isn't normal," you muttered. "I just lost my husband, who also happens to be your brother. Please, don't."

He clicked his tongue. _He had to do this the hard way_. "Take off your nightgown, Sweetheart, _now_."

Your eyes widened, your heart slamming against your ribs. "Steve, please." 

He stood up and came up to you, but didn't touch you. "I would never hurt you," he told you firmly as he stared down at you. "But you will listen to me and do as I say."

You glared at him, your vision blurring. "Or what?"

You watched as his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "Take off your nightgown, slowly," he said coldly. "Don't make me ask you again."

You clenched your jaw and bowed your head as you started to undress. You had noticed Steve watching you before, but you never knew him to have such thoughts about you, though Joseph has always been wary of leaving you alone with him.

You shivered as you let the nightgown fall off on the ground, immediately covering your breasts. Steve's hungry and heated gaze focused on your plumper flesh and your five-months-old bump. 

"Take off your panties too," he ordered, his voice thick with arousal. You slide them down your legs and stepped out of them stiffly. "Look at me," he commanded.

You trembled as you did. You were bare and vulnerable in front of your fully clothed brother-in-law who also happened to be a genetically enhanced super-soldier. 

His gaze was all-consuming, the blue of his eyes swallowed by the darkness. "Steve," you whimpered with watery eyes.

"I'm not gonna hurt you," he repeated. "I'm going to protect you, Sweetheart."

You gasped as his hands found your belly, his touch buttery-soft. He observed it for a while, seemingly lost in thought.

He then wordlessly undressed and sat down on the bed, facing the dressing mirror. "Come here," he breathed roughly as his cock stood at attention.

You eyed him warily and took a few steps, coming to a halt in front of him. You trembled as he turned you around and spread your legs. 

Your breath hitched as his fingers found your clit, rubbing circles on it.

He palmed your pussy with his free hand. "You are already very wet," he mused, increasing the speed of his administration on your sweet spot. 

"Steve, my knees are buckling," you panted as you felt the pressing building. "Please, I can't stand like this —" He immediately clutched your body and pulled you on his lap, plunging into you with a snap of his hips. "Fuck," you moaned as you arched your back. 

He increased the pace of his deep thrusts. "Goddammit," he groaned as he felt your walls squeezing him tightly.

You threw your head back as you felt his hands squeeze your breasts and his fingers tease your nipples. You were oversensitive, and you shuddered as you felt your orgasm approaching, his cock hitting your g-spot repetitively.

"C'mon on Honey," he rasped, "squeeze me harder and come for me."

And you did, crying out his name as you came hard around his cock. He cursed and pounded his hips harder, filling you up with his cum as he orgasmed.

Steve buried his head into the crook of your neck, pressing light kisses on your skin. 

You rested your head on his shoulder, struggling to catch your breath as reality began to set in. You just had unprotected sex with your brother-in-law while pregnant with his dead brother's child. 

Tears welled up your eyes as guilt and sorrow swelled within you.

"Hey, none of that," Steve warned you gently. He grappled your jaw, angling your face towards his own. "You aren't alone in this, do you get that?"

Your lip quivered. "Sure," you croaked.

His gaze focused on your lips. He licked his own and then kissed you hard, stealing your breath once again.

Steve knew all about your desire to be by yourself. But as long as he lived, he was never going to allow you to be on your own.


	2. Flesh and Blood II

The First Avenger House was a French Renaissance-inspired single-family mansion, located on Riverside Drive in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. With exteriors of pristine white marble and a green-tiled roof, it was a New York City landmark which the former Captain America Steve Rogers had bought, making it both his home and a base of operation for his art forgery dealings.

Standing in front of the bronze grills of the main entrance, you clutched your long, black wool coat to your chest, feeling the autumn's chill seeping through your bones. Steve had told you to let him know when you arrived, but you needed more time for yourself. 

His dominating, overbearing presence had followed you since the fateful night of your husband's funeral. Your wanton response to the way he had touched and played your body as if he knew it already made you feel deeply ashamed, yet a small part of you felt like you had Joseph back, even if just for a few moments of sinful ecstasy. 

"Sweetheart, what are you doing out there?! Come inside the house right now!" Steve called out for you as he was waiting on the doorstep, the rolled-up sleeves of his white shirt showing a peak of the taut muscles underneath it, his super-soldier serum no doubt turning up the heat.

He strutted towards you as you remained rooted to the spot, breathing in and out as your arms went over your belly in a gesture of protection.

_He didn't like the way your body tensed every time he came near you, as if you were distrustful of him. As if you didn't believe that he wished the best for you and the child — but he did. And no matter what obstacles you were going to face, he was going to show you his devotion any time he could._

He stopped right in front of you, placing an arm around your shoulders as a hand grasped your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Are you trying to catch a cold while five months pregnant?" He grunted, his piercing blue-green gaze staring fixedly at you. "Don't be reckless."

You sighed softly, biting your tongue before saying something you would regret. "I needed a moment to myself, Steve." 

_It was true. Unless Maria Hill or someone else kept you company, he didn't leave your side as his men organized your moving to his property._

His eyes narrowed, tongue clicking at your words. "You can have a moment inside, Sweetheart. Let's go."

* * *

Splendid was the only word you could use to describe the interior of the impressive and opulent manor. Features that ranged from the hall made of marble to a grand staircase; from ceilings made of prestigious wood with frescos over it to gold ornaments found in most rooms. Fourth floors of a grandiose luxury you had never seen, until the moment you set foot inside the residence that was going to become your new home.

As he finished the house tour, Steve guided you through the threshold of a mysterious room with a hand splayed over the small of your back, eagerly directing your movement. 

The sight of the chamber's interior took your breath away. Your lips parted in wonder as your gaze studied the numerous murals and paintings portraying your face and body, immediately recognizing the painters' hands. 

"Joseph was thinking of gifting you this room to use as an office space," Steve recalled as he anchored his gaze on your figure. "He wanted to show you his love, and he asked me to help. We painted everything together."

Your vision blurred, little gasps leaving your lips as you heard his words and observed a replica of the painting The Kiss by Francesco Hayez. Instead of the original couple, it depicted Joseph kissing you. 

Steve immediately placed an arm around your upper chest, slowly pulling your body to his from behind. "It's okay Sweetheart, I miss him too," he murmured. "But you and your kid will be happy here, okay? And it's what my brother would have wanted for both of you."

You buried your face in your hands, trying to suppress your hiccups as he rested his forehead over the crown of your head. "Do you think he would have wanted you to break into my life and disrupt it as you did?!"

His grip tightened around your shoulders. "Don't say that!" He chastised. "You need a strong partner who can protect you and the little one."

You swallowed slowly. "And is my brother-in-law going to be my strong partner?" You whispered.

He paused for a few moments, and then — "Yes, he will." He slowly turned you around as he held your face between his hands. "And you will see that I am right."

Steve peeled off your pants and panties and then manoeuvred you to sit on a tall table. He sank to his knees, never breaking eye contact as you fiercely held his hungry gaze, blinking back the remaining tears. "You are the only person I would get on my knees for," he rumbled as your eyes widened. "Remember that."

You gasped as his fingers parted your pussy lips, his mouth latching onto your sex as your heart drummed in your chest. Steve delved his tongue in and flicked it as you bit back a moan, arching your hips against his face. He licked your flesh and lapped at your juices while his fingers found your clit, rubbing circles over it. You shuddered and cummed while he swirled his tongue, prolonging the shockwaves of your orgasm as your thighs straddled his head between them.

He slowly moved away from between your legs, licking his lips as you tried to catch your breath. 

He removed his clothes as you eyed him apprehensively, squeezing your thighs together to prevent from showing the leavings your sordid desire. "Don't close your legs, Sweetheart," Steve warned you, a playful, unrighteous edge to his tone. "I need you moistened or else I won't glide in as I did a week ago."

Your face burned with embarrassment as you heard the words leaving his mouth, and you looked down and away to avoid his lustful gaze.

He closed the distance between your bodies and brought his hands over your hips to slowly turn you around, your clothed back resting against his naked chest. 

You shivered as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, slowly thrusting inside your pussy as his hands slipped under your blouse to knead and massage your breasts. 

Gasping, you arched your hips as your moist walls squeezed him tightly, making him groan. "Fuck." He nuzzled your neck, snapping his hips faster as his fingers started to tease your clit. 

Pants and moans left your lips as you trembled and tensed, fluttering around his cock. He lost rhythm, moaning your name as he pulled your hips down harder and pulsed inside of you.

You rested your head on his shoulders, your dampish cheek wetting his broad shoulders. Steve's gaze travelled from your lips to your breasts and your bump, then back to your face. Eyes closed, your lips parted slightly as you inhaled and exhaled.

He brushed his lips across your forehead. "I'm going to take good care of you, Sweetheart."

* * *

Warmth encompassed you as you woke up, an oversized sherpa blanket cocooning your plumper shape. Peering at your surroundings, you realized you were in one of the sumptuous bedrooms Steve showed you the night before.

Hushed voices could be heard outside your room, probably the ones of the domestic workers he had introduced you to during the house tour.

You got up and took your time as you showered and got dressed. But just as you were about to exit the bedroom, someone knocked on the door and called out your name. "Can I come in?"

"Hope?" You asked as you recognized the voice. Your friend entered the room, a warm smile surfacing on her lips as she approached and then hugged you. "I've missed you, Dearest," Hope told you as you nodded. "Me too."

You invited her to sit next to you on the couch. After asking you how the pregnancy was going, she talked about her week, though you could sense that she was eager to discuss your new arrangement.

Yet before you could start, she interrupted you, her expression morphing into a stern one as her demeanour shifted. "Steve is the boss," she declared as your brows furrowed. _You did know that._ "We are all loyal to him just as we were to Joseph."

You hesitated. _Why would she give you that kind of premise?_ "I know he's the boss, Hope," you replied carefully. "And you know that I'm aware of what kind of work Joseph did. Not much of what I have seen so far surprises me _—_ except maybe for the opulence of this entire place."

She gave you a tight-lipped smile. "I know you are aware of how things work," she said thoughtfully. "But there are some important matters you will have to learn about."

Your eyes narrowed. _That wasn't good — she was starting to become cryptic with you._ "Hope..." you trailed off. "Give it to me straight."

 _Now she was the one hesitating._ She pressed her lips together as she placed a hand inside her jacket, picking up a file folder. "This is what I can give you, for now." She said your name as she leaned forward, putting the binder in your hands as you eyed her questioningly. "Be careful, my friend, and keep your eyes open."

Later, after she had bid you goodbye and the trusted butler Phil Coulson brought you a breakfast tray full of mouthwatering nourishment, you decided to get to it and open the folder. It carried a single piece of paper with a note written on it.

_Steven Grant Rogers is a United States Army Captain, Art Forger and Mobster. The former Captain America and his childhood friend James Buchanan Barnes are neck-deep into the dealings._

_Joseph Rogers Jr. was an Art Appraiser and Mobster. He's dead. Officially killed by a hitman, or at least that's the public explanation. He and his older brother Steven Grant were equal partners._

_Mrs Rogers is Former Art Dealer and current Housewife. I think she's innocent and doesn't know about her husband and her brother-in-law's dealings. There aren't proofs of the contrary._

_She's pregnant, and with a dead husband, she's an easy target. Keep in mind that someone let me know that Captain Rogers intends to move her into his house, which complicates things._

_That's all I have for now. Make sure this note arrives on time to Thaddeus Ross._

_Everett K. Ross_

You were sure that only a few days before, the press reported both Thaddeus Ross and Everett K. Ross as missing persons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for being late with this chapter! :( Let me know what you think! :)


End file.
